


As Much

by ammcj062



Series: Prompt Fills [3]
Category: The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Emotional Baggage, F/M, Morally Ambiguous Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-02-12 20:07:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12967425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ammcj062/pseuds/ammcj062
Summary: Filled for the comment-fic prompt: "any, any, I know this whole damn city thinks it needs you. But not as much as I do"





	As Much

It’s another year, another muckraking story for Karen, another spat of bullets whizzing through the window of her studio apartment in the dead of night. Her bed was tucked in a corner away from the windows but the bookshelf in front of it – the bookshelf that saved her life that night – bleeds shreds of paper and broken spines across the floor. 

Frank’s fists clench at the sight.

“Just look at this, Karen! I can’t – you can’t shrug this off like it’s nothing!”

Some sackless lowlife shit nearly killed her and Frank hadn’t even known until David’s program picked it up on the police scanner. There had been an uptick in acts of intimidation against other journalists lately. Karen, though – Karen was the only one they tried to kill. He gives in to the urge to sweep up the nearest binder still on a shelf and fling it across the room at the piled remains of her desk.

Karen breathes in sharply but her eyes narrow as well, chin jutting out aggressively. She’s never shied away from Frank’s temper when it’s focused on her. Hell, he’d probably caused that, hadn’t he? The first time they met he’d told her she was safe. If he’d realized the kind of shit she’d pull – and he should have, when she fled the blast of a shotgun and parried with a photo of his family shoved up to his face – he should have put the fear of God into her then.

“I’m not going to stop this story, Frank. People need to know –"

“Bullshit this ‘people always need to know!’” He sneers. “I know this whole damn city thinks it needs you, sweeping in to right the injustices of old ladies and puppies –“

Karen scoffs.

“— but they don’t.” Frank grabs her by the shoulders and pulls her in, desperate to make her _listen_ before he has to find her body cooling in the street, face a concave remnant of viscera. “They _don’t,_ Karen. They don’t. Not as much as I do. You’re my –”

The word dies in Frank’s throat and comes out a half-mangled sound. He’s never said it in all the years they’ve known each other. He buried the concept years ago. But if it will make Karen stay away, keep her safe, then he can do this.

Karen’s hands curl around his elbows, breath quickening in a way Frank’s cursing and raging hadn’t been able to do. “Frank.”

He digs for the word, tries to define what they’ve refused to for years, but Karen gets herself together first. Her fingers tighten, digging into a tender spot on his arms. “You needed to know once,” she says softly. “Maria and Lisa and Frank Jr.”

The word crawls back into its pit unsaid before the ghosts can howl at the affront to their memory. “Don’t,” he growls. “Don’t try to use them against me, goddamn you.”

She pulls herself away but Frank’s grip leaves red imprints on her arms. Frank watches her circle around him and pick up the manila folder on her bed, chest heaving for breath he hadn’t realized he’d lost.

“This is a woman’s life, Frank. I _can’t_ just hide myself away or let this go.” She hooks her purse on her shoulders and grips the strap tightly, folding her story notes protectively against her chest. “Don’t ask me to.”

Karen Page walks out of the ruin of another apartment, heels crushing broken glass beneath her. Frank waits until she’s gone before he leans against the bookshelf face-first in defeat.

**Author's Note:**

> Goddamn this series is fucked up and I love it. Don't use this as an example of a healthy relationship.


End file.
